


Cherished

by Acouri



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, F/F, Minor Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22803418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acouri/pseuds/Acouri
Summary: Inspired by the movie "Secretary".Tissaia is a lawyer and Yennefer is trying to get her life back on track.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 74
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I watched this movie last weekend and couldn't stop thinking about an AU with these two. So now you guys can deal with it as well! :) 
> 
> I'm not very familiar with the book/game lore (yet), but I hope you'll still enjoy this story! I'll be adding tags as we go.

She'd been with Tissaia for two weeks and didn’t that sound novel, _with_ Tissaia. They had barely exchanged daily pleasantries and Yennefer was still unsure if she wanted her around and actually, if she was going to keep her employed. She had done most of what Tissaia demanded, if only to keep this job and hence her family from kicking her out before she could get her life together again. She'd even put on a damn pencil skirt even though she really couldn't see the point of a dress code when it was just the two of them most of the time.

This day was an exception, with a guy in a stuffy suit currently sitting in Tissaia's office and her heavy wooden door firmly shut. She could hear his louder voice muffled through it, but not a peep from Tissaia, so the guy was probably monologuing at her. Usually the door would stand at least a bit open and she could steal a glance at her boss on her way across the front room to the tea kitchen.

She poured some coffee, just for herself this time, and threw all the sugar cubes she wanted into the cup without Tissaia's disapproving gaze on her hands. She was just topping off her artwork with caramel syrup (that she had brought herself, Tissaia wouldn't be called dead with it) when the door burst open and stuffy-suit-guy rushed outside.

"Yennefer, take a letter please."

That sounded friendly. She carried her carefully balanced mug over to her desk and grabbed her notepad from under the pile of letters she hadn’t managed to get through yet. A quick tug on her skirt to pull it back over her knees and she stepped into the main office. She hovered for a moment, watching Tissaia stretching to open one of the high windows and not too sure if it would be offensive to offer her help.

"Sit."

Okay then. Not even "please" and "thank you"? Whatever that guy had said had left Tissaia incredibly flustered. She kind of liked it; it made her seem a little more human. So that this time her boss commanded her around like a puppy, she didn't have to count down from 10 like her therapist had recommend. Until Tissaia showered her with a flurry of legal terms as she tried to keep up, most of which she'd have to look up later. Wouldn't it be nice if her boss had actually technology in her office, like a voice recorder. She'd tried to use her phone before, which had resulted in a ban of such items during work hours.

"Did you get all that?" 

"Yes, got it," Yennefer replied as sharply as she could muster and walked back out, heels clicking on the surely expensive floor. This, she was kind of good at. She'd noticed Tissaia's eyes following her a few times and had turned that into a little game to break some ice between them. But she clearly hadn't managed to break anything yet. 

Yennefer took a careful sip from her perfect coffee artwork and set up the typewriter in front of her. She'd figured that this was possibly the only office without a computer in the county. Not a great selling point and something that school had left her utterly unprepared for. 

When she handed Tissaia the typed up letter, the older woman still looked like something had crawled up her back, like a brain eating worm from that movie Yennefer had seen with Geralt last weekend. She sat still, staring out the window, which seemed rather pointless with the heavy frosted glass on the bottom keeping curious eyes out.

"Thank you."

At least she was acknowledged. Yennefer put an extra swing into her hips and not even that seemed to do anything. She was bored, definitely not worried about her boss, but at least she'd get to go home soon. The pile of letters was still waiting on her desk, so she reluctantly got to work.

"Yennefer!" 

That voice sounded slightly more frosty than usual. She walked back around the corner into Tissaia's office, but her face wasn't even that flush with anger yet, she'd seen worse.

"Do it again," she sighed and handed her the letter back. Yennefer unfolded it and winced. It had Tissaia's neat, cursive handwriting all over it, straight lines underlining where she'd been careless and left a typo. Fine. It wasn't like she wanted to do this all her life, so it didn't really touch her pride. She'd play nice, until her therapist would say she's all better and her scars were healed properly and she could leave.

Yennefer pulled her chair back up to her typewriter and took a look at her watch. She'd be out late today unless she really hurried. Her phone was already blinking in her purse, probably with a text from Geralt asking if they should get dinner and a movie and maybe fuck some of their frustrations away.

She opted to re-type the letter instead of deciding on her evening plans. When she finally brought it back to Tissaia, it was already getting dark outside. But she'd actually written with greater care this time than usually.

Tissaia was buried in her papers this time, comparing her notes to contents of various books whose shelves lined all of the surrounding office walls. 

"No, give it to me," the woman said harshly when Yennefer tried to quietly slip it onto the desk next to her. 

She handed it to her wordlessly instead and turned to leave, to finally text back Geralt that yes, she had had a bad day and some distraction would be nice. Maybe even with a "please". 

"No, stay here, please."

Fuck. At least the basic manners were back. Tissaia unfolded the letter and got to her feet. She wasn't that much shorter than her, but still managed to hold an impressive amount of authority in her form. A few strands of hair had come free from the bun she usually wore it in, but her suit was perfect as always. And probably four times the price of Yennefer's.

Her lips moved mutely while reading, which was something Yennefer hadn't realized before. Tissaia walked around the desk towards her and sighed loudly. 

"How old are you, Yennefer?" 

Was she going to ask her out for her impressive typing skills? Or buy her a drink at least?

"21 now," she replied reluctantly.

"And how long have you been here now?"

"Uhm. Almost two weeks."

The air suddenly felt very warm and stuffy.

"And you still can't write my name correctly?"

Ah. Fuck. Tissaia was close now, right to her side, so close she could make out the scent of her perfume. Or maybe she didn't wear perfume, when the scent was this subtle.

She held the letter in her hand and Yennefer wasn't sure if she was supposed to take it or read it while she was holding it out to her. Apologizing seemed like a good idea to get rid of the frown on her face. 

"I'm sorry, I'll fix it."

"I’m afraid there is only one 's' in 'de Vries'."

See, she definitely knew that. But sometimes her hands just wouldn't play along when her mind drifted off elsewhere. Yennefer stared down at the laden desk. The pleasant, subtle scent disappeared and she expected to have the paper shoved back into her hands. Instead, there was a sharp swat on her ass, so quick that it barely registered to her overloaded, tired brain. Her eyes widened. Wait, had this just happened? 

"Go home, Yennefer. You can fix this tomorrow." 

The voice was coming from behind her and wasn't she supposed to now turn around in anger and possibly file for sexual harassment? But her mouth was dry and her tongue didn't seem to work and maybe she'd just imagined it? 

When her head spun around for real, not just in her imagination, her boss was standing at a bookshelf behind her, reading through an index.

Her eyes fell to Tissaia's hands, still clutching the now slightly crumpled letter hanging from between her fingers, so if she hadn't imagined it, she'd used her hand. 

"Thank you."

Why 'thank you', what was she thinking? Yennefer rushed out of the room, this time flustered and definitely leaving out that extra swing of her hips. Tissaia's eyes bore into her back, she could feel that much, and the door was pulled shut behind her. Her hands were shaking when she stood outside in the cool air and took her phone out of her purse to text a reply to Geralt's dinner request. 

She wasn't going to tell him, there was no way. They were close, but she didn't really like to share things before figuring them out on her own. They were good together, pretty great even she'd say, in small doses. Usually she'd have taken a bus home, but she was not dealing with her family tonight, so she texted Geralt an SOS, who volunteered to pick her up. He had a car and his own place, which added the perks that they wouldn't have to be quiet and nobody would steal their beer.

Yennefer checked her make-up on her phone's camera and only then noticed how flushed her cheeks still were. At this point, she was fairly sure she hadn't imagined it. She had been teasing Tissaia, she had to admit. It had taken two days for her to figure out how she'd have to sit in this weird skirt with her knees tightly together unless she wanted to hear her bosses' sharp intake of breath when she walked in. And then she'd made a game out of that, to melt some of the ice queen. She just hadn't expected for the ice to give way to this. And she'd have to go back tomorrow.

It took until their pizza was gone, the movie was almost over and Geralt was finally burying his cock deep inside her with a groaned "Fuck" for her to stop thinking about Tissaia's hand on her ass. It was really a pity they always ended up at each other's throats when being together for longer; the sex was always rather nice.

"You're so quiet today," he said, when they were lying in ruffled sheets.

"Is that not a insult to yourself?"

"Yen-"

"I'm fine."

"Talk to me if you're not. Hear me?'

His fingers were holding onto her wrist, the one with the scar on it that hadn't faded yet. Yennefer pulled the covers over both of them and buried her face in his warm neck.

"Can you take me home?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the nice feedback, you're all very sweet :)

The letter waited for her on her desk, having been folded several times, and the door to Tissaia's office was closed. Yennefer put down her purse and began to prepare coffee for herself and the cup of morning tea for Tissaia. Her boss would storm through the front door any minute, greet her with a tight smile and actually flash a real one for a moment when she brought her cup over. 

She was still going to be professional, whatever that meant. The first step to that was definitely that letter. When she unfolded it, a bright red line glared at her from under Tissaia's name. Just in case she'd forgotten. Now that annoyed her, but she prepared her typewriter in the name of professionalism and re-wrote it. When she was done and had even proofread the thing, there still hadn't been anyone throwing the front door open and no wave of sensible heels and perfume flying past her. She put the letter neatly on the edge of her desk, right next to the cup with just the right amount of tea leaves in it.  
Did she have an appointment today? No, those would usually go through her and she'd almost definitely know. It was nearing lunch time when she had assembled a nice little pile of outgoing mail and crossed most items off her list. Getting things done without adult supervision felt kind of nice for a change, though she suspected this feeling wouldn't last.

Just when she had gotten ready to go out for lunch, the front door was opened and Tissaia was squeezing inside, carrying the contents of at least that one bookshelf under her desk. Her boss seemed exhausted, like she’d been up all night, and somehow that looked endearing on her, between the desperate attempts at retaining flawlessness. Yennefer couldn’t help but wonder what was behind all that, and what would happen if she opened her mouth without those attempts. She had a few ideas.  
Tissaia gave her a curt nod, barely meeting her eyes, and rushed past her, so she guessed at least she wasn’t trying anything new today. 

When she was back from her break, Tissaia had already closed the door behind her and wordlessly left a new list for her to work through, in impeccable cursive. This was new, and somehow even worse, usually she’d call Yennefer into her office and have her write it herself. She was pretty sure watching her try to scramble down a list within seconds was one of the very few things that amused her, or at least one of the few times she’d look directly at her.   
Was she just going to pretend she didn’t exist all day? The letter was gone at least, so she figured that had been all right, or even up to satisfaction, although it really was somewhat a lot less satisfactory like this for herself. The tea she’d prepared this morning had been taken as well, though.   
Tissaia really did end up sternly ignoring her, not even throwing sneaky glances her way when she was certain Yennefer was fully distracted. By the time she got to leave for the day, she was mildly frustrated and lacking something to take it out on. If this was professionalism, it was rather dull. Geralt was working late, because he mostly had his adult life together, at least for the moment. So as far as Yennefer was concerned, he sometimes had to put on a suit and actually mean it. 

Just a few more months, then she’d have enough savings for a deposit. And maybe do something entirely different with her life. The rent she had to pay her parents to merely exist in their home from time to time kept eating away at her budget and when her mother sometimes asked for help because her father had been out drinking again, there wasn’t much she could do. Depending on people sucked and came with so many more strings attached than you expected, every time.

She wasn't sure what it was that made her want to tickle a reaction out of Tissaia. There was something about her she'd probably never have and Yennefer wanted to badly to scratch the surface and see what lay below. And she did look great in her sensible suits and would look even better in less.

Yennefer made the decision when picking out her clothes the next day.  
“All fun and games,” she’d written to Geralt, who told her protesting her dress code was a terrible idea. He always did insult her plans in some way, but offered he’d be there to pick up the pieces later. 

She got there earlier than usual the next morning, only to re-type one of the previous day’s form letters, signing off with a neat “Law Office of T. de Vriess”, just for good measure. When Tissaia came by to pick up her tea, Yennefer handed her the fresh letter with a smile that seemed to throw her off more than the skirt that definitely didn't end below her knees that day. 

There was an adorable flush on her cheeks when she finally called for her, so Yennefer already saw this as some kind of win.   
"What is this?" The paper hung from her fingers, red lines added in several places.

Yennefer gave her a smirk.

"The letter you asked for on yesterday's list." 

"You know better than this. Take a look."

Tissaia got up from behind her desk and handed her the letter, probably assuming she wouldn't notice the way she lingered, hands behind her back, taking in the scent of the perfume she'd applied to her wrists this morning.   
It only gave Yennefer more confidence to scan through the writing and shrug. 

"What do you think we can do about it?"

Tissaia had walked behind her like a way too sexy deja vu and that was way too distracting. The slap was harder than last time, enough for it to finally sink in that yes, she was standing in this office and her boss still had her hand on her ass and she would happily come back for more.   
She wanted to turn to see what her face looked like now, see if she looked as terrified as before or if it showed that she knew she'd come back for this.

"Eyes on the desk, Yennefer."

What did she really have to control her? But the next swat left a proper sting through the thin fabric of her skirt and if she turned around, Tissaia would possibly stop. Now she just sighed.

"Pick it up."

What?  
Oh.   
The sheet had somehow floated to the floor and she felt that she could not be blamed at all. But Tissaia’s warm hand was still there, her fingertips just low enough to graze the hem of her surely outrageous skirt. 

“We don’t have all day,” she reminded her and she was certain Tissaia’s voice carried a hint of amusement at her hesitation. 

Yennefer turned around quickly this time, only to catch her eye for a short moment and flash her a smile before bowing down to pick the damn letter up. Her skirt rode up her thighs and she almost sighed in frustration when Tissaia’s palm left her, before the next firm swat hit bare skin so hard her breath hitched. 

“This is why you wear a proper skirt.”

Or, you know, this was exactly why you didn’t. The thought of what they might look like left her underwear damp already and wondering if it was the same for Tissaia when knowing her hand had been that close made it so much worse. 

Tissaia stepped back to her desk, held out her hand and Yennefer folded the paper once to hand it back, seeking eye contact she didn’t see returned. Even if she wasn’t going to be able to be direct with her, she needed her to know she was fine before she got all worried again. Yennefer’s fingers wrapped around her delicate wrists, stroking the soft skin of her hand and she imagined the woman needed more assurance than she did.   
Tissaia cleared her throat and pulled her hand back. Would it be too much to try and kiss her while she was clearly a bit dazed?

“Fix the letter, please.” 

Even with a fucking “please” this time.  
It was a pleasant little sting when she sat down and she was pretty sure her therapist would look over his unrealistically clean desk and mumble “That is not healthy behaviour, Yennefer”, as if she didn’t know.

One incredibly bored looking client sat in their waiting area in the front room while she completed her task, only perking up when Tissaia walked out of her office and joined her behind her desk. This was new and her simply standing there, reading what she was writing from behind her, was suddenly pushing her buttons more than it should.   
She bowed down a bit and let her hand rest on her shoulder, making Yennefer’s fingers freeze in place.  
“Perfect. I’ll need six copies of that, please.”

She declined sleeping over at Geralt’s place, which was strange enough, especially on a Friday night, but she claimed she really needed to think and no trouble had come out of her game. Technically she was even warming up with Tissaia and maybe they’d just need some time to get to know each other. Every time she thought about standing in her office, another small detail changed. What if she’d refused? The thought of what if she’d just skipped wearing anything under her skirt that day only made her groan into her pillow and was now officially one of her favourites.   
She could ask Geralt if he'd ever tried anything like it, but it wasn't just that. It was mostly her. That sweet feeling she’d begun to crave only came up when it was her. And it got so much worse when it could be Tissaia all unhinged.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your nice comments and kudos <3 I really appreciate it! 
> 
> This one I kept editing around in and it's still not right...and at this point I just have to accept it I think. Next one should be easier, I hope. :)

“Yen, you’re being weird and it’s starting to freak me out.”

“I’m perfectly fine staying in.” 

“It’s Saturday night.”

And there was nothing wrong with that. 

“It’s 8pm and you’re in pajamas.”

“So?” She leaned back against the doorframe, pulled the long sleeves over her hands and crossed her arms. The fact that Geralt was gesturing wildly was stranger in her mind.

“You don’t even own pajamas.”

He was technically correct, but she felt he didn’t really need to hear an explanation for that. 

"Let's just get a drink and talk,” he breathed, “or at least come wish Triss a Happy Birthday."

Ah. Yennefer wrinkled her nose. She'd forgotten about that and he had a point. Throughout school Triss had been one of the few people she could rely on, for the most part. They hadn't greatly appreciated each other in the last years, but she should at least be showing her face on her birthday.

-

The bar she was celebrating at was so crowded that Yennefer almost turned around again when it came into sight. But Geralt tucked her under his arm and even though she'd never ask for it, it was alarmingly calming. It was that bar near Geralt's place, where they'd get a few drinks at the end of late nights before crashing on his bed. A wave of the familiar bartender had them slip inside and Yennefer was thankful that Triss was a universally happy drunk. To the point where she probably wouldn’t even have noticed if she hadn’t shown up.

Their usual booth was taken, so they settled down in the quiet back corner at the bar. For a while, they sat in silence as Yennefer peeled the labels off her bottle with fingernails entirely too short and colorless compared to how neat she'd always kept them.

“How’s work so far?” he asked, casually, as if he didn’t actually mean ‘Does it look like you’ll manage to hold this job down or are you going to run again?’. 

“It’s all right,” she replied. 

"Want to talk about it?" 

She was glad he always seemed like nothing could really throw him off, that even if she had any plans at all of telling him that hey, I think my boss gets off on slapping me sometimes and I like it, he would maybe just raise an eyebrow. Or he would drag her out of that place on her neck, she wasn’t entirely sure.

In the end, she shrugged and found a point on the wall to concentrate on, just above his shoulder. 

"I think Triss wants to go home with you tonight," is what she ended up saying. She took a long drink from her beer as if to swallow what she just said and made a mental note of the way he was watching her lips. 

“I see.” 

Geralt nodded calmly but his jaw seemed to hold back whatever it was he really wanted to let loose. He took her bottle from her thin, endlessly fiddling fingers and waited until she met his eyes. She stretched her arm out for the bottle dramatically, but he wouldn't even crack a smile.

"Are you done coming home with me then?" His voice sounded weary.

It felt a bit like having asked to do trapeze without the safety net and then still being surprised when you're up in the air and seeing it's really not there. Her shoulders deflated, arm dropping down on the bar tiredly. The question was too loaded.

"We agreed this isn't a thing we talk about, Geralt." She said his name like it's sealing the end of that conversation.

He waved at the bartender for another drink and pushed the bottle back into her hand, keeping his own there and feeling how cold her fingers are. His eyes rested on that image for a while.

“Five bucks Jaskier is going home with that blonde over there,” he said suddenly, pointing to a crowd of people forming by the door. 

Yennefer had to smile at that, but he was historically really bad at this game.

“Ten on the new waitress.” 

-

Maybe he did end up going home with Triss, she had no intention of finding that out tonight. When she stepped outside into the cool air it wasn't very late yet and the road was busy with people out for the night, on the way to their next stop. She walked slowly, deliberately; there was nobody waiting at home, no reason to be anywhere but to be with herself for a little while. 

She buried her hands in the pockets of her coat and her eyes followed the couple on the other side of the street. Though it would be kind of nice to have something like that again. There had been Istredd, before Geralt, but she still shuddered at the thought of how that had ended and how that was part of what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

"Good evening."

Yennefer had almost missed the woman standing next to her at the traffic light, a bit shorter now than usual because Yennefer had opted for higher heels.

"'evening," she managed to choke out, forcing a straight face. 

Somehow, she'd never pictured Tissaia going out or even existing outside the little world that was their office. But why wouldn't she be out as well? Maybe she'd even been out on a date with someone. That thought stung a little. Yennefer looked over to her and noted that Tissaia didn't look much different than from how she came into work. Hair put up neatly, a dress in the same cut as her skirts and even carrying a briefcase. If this was date attire, she wondered what kind of date that had been and how it ended with her going home by herself.

"So what are you up to?" she finally dares herself to ask. 

Tissaia looked up at her and her fingers tightened. Her body seemed tense and Yennefer would've liked to fix that, maybe by taking her hand again.

"I had a dinner to attend to." The light turned green and they walked slowly. "Work-related," she added, as if she already knew what Yennefer was thinking. 

"And you? Had a nice night?" 

The obviously forced nonchalance surprised her. 

"Just on my way home from a friend's birthday party." 

She could swear that had been the hint of a tiny smile on Tissaia's lips but she wouldn't be able to prove it. Would it be too much to ask her to get a drink before the night ended? Co-workers did that, right? It was completely normal.

"Would you like to get a drink? I know a place." It slipped out before she'd even decided whether it was a stupid thing to do or not. 

She watched as Tissaia opened her mouth once, and closed it again to think and Yennefer didn't think she'd seen her thrown off guard before. 

"Thank you, but I really should get home."

Oh. 

Yennefer pulled her coat tighter around herself, crossing her arms over it and nodded. Of course.

"I could drop you off at home? I'm parked right over there." Tissaia motioned to a parking lot they'd been walking towards. 

She'd have jumped at the offer a few minutes ago. It’s not that she had really expected for them to bond over drinks and walk out holding hands. But it would’ve been nice to establish they could exist together outside of the office. 

Right now, the last thing she needed was for her boss to see where she lived. 

"I'm good, thanks," she replied, lips pressed tightly together.

Tissaia dropped her arm and nodded. 

"Have a good night, Yennefer."

"Yeah, you too." It was sharp and dry, like she was finishing a phone call at work. 

She was used to being watched, so she liked to think it didn't really faze her when she felt eyes on her back when she walked away.

Yennefer chewed on her lip as she walked more briskly. The fact that she had no idea who Tissaia actually was outside their workplace set in like a sudden cold shower down her back. Of course she had to get home. There was probably someone waiting for her there and she hadn't even considered that a possibility when it was blatantly obvious. 

Tissaia was an adult who had her life together. Whereas Yennefer was, again, and she was beginning to see a pattern here, the side thing, and kind of an idiot for expecting anything else to come out of that. And maybe that was just how things were supposed to be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovely people for the nice feedback. :) I'm so sorry for the delay; don't try to move in a pandemic.

The sting of the bathwater was a little different, colder than usual, but still familiar against the insides of her thighs. She leaned back against the edge of the tub, closing her eyes. The dull white ceramic was cold pressing against her neck. Her phone suddenly stirred, vibrating with a message on the floor and she decided to ignore it today. Geralt was going to meet her for lunch tomorrow and nobody else really mattered right now anyway.

"It's your side of the family she gets that from!"

She sank a little lower into the water, counting down from 10, and drowned out whatever shouting was going on next door. What did that matter, really.   
The phone buzzed to life again just as she was getting comfortable, this time with a call. She stared at the name on the display, eyebrows raising in confusion. That was a first in quite a while.

"Triss?"

"Yenna, how are...things? You? Thanks for coming yesterday."

"It's all right."

If it had been a few years ago, she'd have asked how she had liked her party or if she liked her presents. Actually, a few years ago they'd have been lounging on the same couch nursing each others hangovers. It would be nice to have that kind of friendship again, but it didn't feel like Triss would still fit that picture.

"I was just wondering if everything is okay with you." There was some shuffling in the background, a soft mumbling like she was covering her phone with her palm.

"I'm fine - is that Geralt?" 

"No." Yennefer bit her tongue; Triss was the worst liar she'd ever met.

"So Geralt had made you check on me? Ever the good friends."

"We're both just worried. You know, after-" 

"I know," she interrupted. This was hers and so personal she didn't even want to hear it uttered, by Triss or anyone. It wasn't anybody's business and she'd be glad if they'd never known. But news traveled fast when the background was quiet. "I'm fine. I'll call you next weekend?"

She wouldn't, but they could both claim they tried. 

-

She had spent her entire Sunday considering reasons not to go into work the following day and all of them had failed her. Her conclusion had been that it was on her that she had just expected Tissaia to want her in the same way. When in reality, what could it actually be? 

Yennefer wasn't sure when her crush - and that was exactly what it had to be - had developed. She'd caught a few glimpses of her fierce personality but didn't even know where she lived. There was no denying her boss was attractive, but she'd built a firm wall around herself. And somehow breaking some of it down had become one of the things Yennefer was looking forward to in the morning. She'd assumed they'd close the distance between them, eventually, because that's how these things always went, right? There was something pleasing about watching Tissaia flush and knowing she felt something too. She'd take what she could get for now. And if wearing that skirt again helped, the one that had Tissaia apparently very interested, then she couldn’t really be blamed for anything. Technically, she hadn’t forbidden her from wearing it.  
All she wanted right now was for Tissaia to actually touch her while looking at her, that would be a good enough start. Was that asking too much? They could go from there. Definitely not expecting more. She watched clients walk in and out of Tissaia's office all morning and didn't even once get called in. That did leave a little jealous sting. 

It took three absolutely unnecessary trips to the tea kitchen. Yennefer kept watch carefully every time the door opened and Tissaia marched outside and spared her a not very sneaky glance. Instead of calling her to prepare her or a client's drink, she was putting on the kettle herself. She'd linger and Yennefer made a point out of uncrossing her legs every time she did. It was still a small high to see her cheeks reddening before she concentrated so hard on reading the surely lengthy ingredient list on that tea again. Then she'd put it back and arrange everything so neatly they could use that corner as an advertising display. Yennefer always expected a comment about her posture as her boss disappeared back into her office. And she wouldn't really mind Tissaia teaching her about sitting properly. Teachers had complained about her slouching in her chair back in school, but to be fair, ever since she started wearing the lower cut blouses at work, her posture had already improved dramatically, almost by itself. 

What would it take for her to give in though? Yennefer pressed her pen to her lower lip as she watched her boss bid goodbye to the last client this morning. Tissaia shot her a glare that Yennefer was unsure of deserving, but she could swear she disappeared exceptionally quickly again because she was hiding a smile. Was she just going back into hiding now?

"Yennefer, come into my office when you're done with that."

She sounded annoyed.

Perfect.

Yennefer could barely hide the relief that washed over her knowing she wasn't planning on awkwardly avoiding her again. She took her time, proof-reading the last letter and sealing it neatly. 

-

Tissaia got up from her desk when she entered, the office darker than usual and smelling faintly of smoke and tea. She buried the papers she had been working on in a drawer of her desk.

“Sit. I have a proposition to discuss.”

Her legs moved without thinking until it registered that the pair of chairs in front of the desks wasn’t there anymore. 

“Keep your eyes on the door, please. These are rather...internal matters and I’d rather we don’t have a client hovering outside out of a sudden.”

Never in her life was Yennefer going to admit to the slight panic this request caused. It wasn’t the fun kind of panic in that moment, either.   
She looked over to Tissaia, questioningly, and was met with the most amusement she'd seen on her gorgeous face yet. Her eyes slipped over to her desk and back at her. Some of her fear slipped from Yennefer looking at her face, and she carefully gestured to the huge, pristine desk and opened her mouth to ask the question, but she wasn't quite sure what the right question in this situation was. 

There?

It was like they were in a play and only Tissaia had the script. For someone so precise her commands were thoroughly lacking, but she supposed that was part of the fun. Yennefer stepped forward and trailed her hand along the dark wood, looking over to the woman standing at the window again. 

"Sit. Today, Yennefer."

She pulled her skirt down a bit, more out of habit than a conscious decision, and hopped up on the desk. She could see out into the front room through the slightly ajar door, not much, but enough to notice should a client walk in. Her fingers curled around the desk nervously.   
Tissaia blatantly looked her up and down this time, still from her safe distance, stopping once at her crossed legs.

"Now that won't do. Sit as you normally do. You know, the way you're attempting to distract my clients."

Oh. Wait.

"I'm not-" Her mouth clicked shut. That wasn't the best thing to correct right now.

Well, nobody could claim she hadn't earnestly tried to be modest. If Tissaia wanted to play, she'd make her ask a little more precisely next time. And if Tissaia would look at her like this every time, she'd spend all day on this desk. Maybe she could just stay there while she worked. She could definitely assist even better from here. 

She uncrossed her legs and suddenly became very aware of the weekend's traces being scattered on her inner thighs. Her hands pulled at the hem of the skirt a bit, but there wasn't much to do about it now. 

"I've gotten an offer to partner up with another firm."

Wait, was this actually going to be serious shop talk? Her head spun around to catch a look at Tissaia's expression, but nothing gave way to a joke or a trick.

"I'd like to at least discuss it," she added and walked over to her desk to take a slip of paper from one of the drawers. "Don't look at me like that, you're not losing your job if I can help it."  
She handed her the paper and Yennefer recognized the address on it. Some way too fancy restaurant she'd walked by a few times and hadn't bothered to take a closer look. She could swear Tissaia was hiding a smile again and it was too adorable on her to look away.

"Eyes on the door. Please. They'd like to discuss some of it over dinner and I thought it would only be fair to include you."

This was definitely not Tissaia asking her out. Yennefer slumped a bit and folded the paper together.

"Sure. Only fair," she repeated. 

"You don't drive?"

Yennefer shook her head; as if she could afford a car currently.

"I'll pick you up, if you want."

Technically, this was the second time Tissaia had invited her to her car. 

"If I…," Yennefer started, seemingly weighing her options,"Sure. 'course I want to." She was going to double check, but she was pretty certain that assistants usually weren't part of these things. "Who's the other company?"

"Feainn Consulting." Tissaia waved her hand as if it didn't concern her. "I doubt you know it."  
A shadow of hurt pride knocked the air out of her for a moment. She hadn’t gone to law school or whatever you had to do to work in or with a place like that. Of course she wouldn’t know, she’d shown her she’d barely spell her own name correctly. But Yennefer still hadn’t expected Tissaia to be this...blunt. This was her boss and she knew backtalk usually brought her nothing except herself into trouble.  
„Why would you think so?“ On the other hand, her mouth has often been a bit quicker than her brain and the words have already fallen out between tight lips before she’s finished her thought.  
„Excuse me?“  
„That I don‘t know that firm. Don't patronize me."  
Tissaia stared at her for a moment, hands folded in front of her slim waist, and didn‘t seem to have an immediate answer to that question. She bit the inside of her cheek, which was something Yennefer hadn‘t seen before but figured it was a nervous habit. She was probably seeing someone about those. 

“It was founded last week, Yennefer. Nobody knows it.” 

Of course. She walked around to stand in front of her, almost at the same height as Yennefer now. The thought was amusing, a bit, but it would also be a nice for kissing, but maybe the side piece didn’t get kissing.   
She kept her thighs squeezed tightly together, but some angry red trails were still betraying her. Tissaia had noticed as well, because she wasn't hiding adorable smiles anymore or looking sternly ahead, but staring at her face with concern. This was new. She extended her hand, like she was scared of burning herself, but only gently trailed her finger up the top of her thigh. 

“What’s that?”

“It’s private.”

She squirmed a bit and looked for something to stare at that wasn't Tissaia and how worried she seemed. That was a look she didn't appreciate much on anyone. This also wasn't really how she had imagined this whole business of Tissaia looking at her while touching. 

“Nervous habit,” Yennefer added, with a smirk she could paint on expertly, but the woman in front of her slipped her fingers between her knees, inching her legs apart, and it made her breath halt in her throat for a moment.

“I think I understand. It’s new pains numbing old ones, but the aftermath is so distracting, isn’t it,” Tissaia murmured. 

It’s wasn’t a question and she wouldn’t have known what to say. There was a nicer scar if she just followed a path further down her thigh, right under her knee, from when she'd moved here in deep winter and Triss had offered to show her around. The lake had frozen over and she’d never tried ice skating before and hadn’t suddenly discovered a hidden innate talent in it either. But stumbling around on borrowed skates had only gotten her some sympathetic giggles from Triss and a supportive arm hooked underneath hers and not the disappointment she’d almost yearned for. 

"You're not to hurt yourself again, is that understood?" 

Because in Tissaia’s world, everything in life could be solved by firmly telling it what to do. She didn’t want to argue though, this was the closest they’d gotten, so close she could smell her subtle perfume and make out the pins holding her hair up. Tissaia’s hands were still curled around her thighs and she’d like that to not stop any time soon. She found herself nodding mutely when she felt the fingers trailing up the insides of her legs and stop right under the hem of that damn skirt. 

"Perfect, Yennefer."

She couldn’t quite agree.

-

He'd been waiting in his car for almost twenty minutes. When was it okay to start worrying? He didn't really want to go inside and although Yennefer hadn't technically said she didn't want him there, she hadn't been talkative about her job. It wasn't what she always imagined she'd be doing, he knew.

Geralt checked his phone again, but she hadn't replied or even seen his message. His own lunch break was ticking by and after the odd behavior at the weekend, maybe worrying a little about a friend was appropriate. The car door slammed shut loudly behind him and he purposefully took his time manually locking the old thing; maybe she'd heard it from across the road.   
No other cars were parked in the front, so at least he would've be disturbing any meetings. Did they have video conferences? He'd find out soon enough.   
He pulled the door open and was instantly overwhelmed with the change in atmosphere coming from the busy street. The desk he assumed was Yennefer's was greeting him on the right, without her, but actually with that typewriter she'd mentioned which he had assumed was in jest. Surely no video conferences in here then.   
He was considering sitting down in one of the chairs in the alcove to wait a moment when he heard her. And he'd heard that suppressed little sigh at quite a few occasions before, none of which were appropriate in this place.   
His eyes found the slightly open wooden door at the other end of the room. There was some movement behind it; he could make out the waves of Yennefer’s hair and a woman standing so close in front of her. Geralt hadn't met Tissaia, but he knew the voice had to be hers. 

"Perfect, Yennefer." 

It sounded affectionate, unreasonable so, and he realized he was intruding, he really shouldn't be here. The voice made him almost stumble backwards and he unleashed a silent thank you to whoever was listening for the thick carpet muting the sound of his shoes. Yennefer would kill him if she knew he was there. His legs carried him out of the house almost automatically and it felt like it took the entire way back to his car until he could breathe again. 

Was this why she didn't want to be with him anymore? That much was fair enough; they weren't exclusive. But she hadn't even mentioned anything. It took him a few tries to fumble his key into the ignition, his hands suddenly feeling way too big and clumsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I don't know why I always end up making things angsty!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3

Yennefer saw a flash of movement behind the door when she finally raised her eyes from Tissaia’s hand on her thigh and couldn’t bring herself to care. 

“I always assumed-”, Tissaia began, and cut herself off when the tip of her finger reached one of the angry red streaks. “You’ll be joining me tonight then, yes?” It felt like they hadn’t been this close before and Yennefer could see the older woman’s mask being so close to slipping a bit. She was almost afraid to scare her off when she covered her hand with her own and expected Tissaia to surely draw back. 

“If you want me to,” she dared with a shrug, a small smile tugging at her lips, because this was so close to becoming a proper flirt. If she could let her hands wander to Tissaia’s slim waist and pull her closer, was that too much? She could feel cool fingers curling tighter around her leg and let them fall open wider, giving Tissaia more space to come closer. 

“Are you going to manage to behave yourself?” Blue eyes found hers and she really hadn’t expected Tissaia to go with it but the tone of her voice made her head feel a lot lighter suddenly.

“If I want to.” All she wanted right now was getting to touch the other woman and she caught her hands casually wandering to her waist, slipping under the jacket, but resting on the soft material of her blouse. She tried her luck, digging her fingers into her skin and pulling her so close she could almost plant a kiss on her jaw. 

Tissaia startled, backing off and drawing her jacket down neatly again. Yennefer wanted to groan and pull her back towards her, but that wasn’t the game and if Tissaia wanted more time, she’d let her have it. Until she’d inevitably lose her patience, at least.

“Right. I’ll be picking you up. At seven. Please dress appropriately.”

And what did that even mean, at this point?

  
  


\---

She watched the way Tissaia walked up to the table where two men were already seated, clutching at her purse with white knuckles, and it first occurred to her then that Tissaia was nervous. Possibly more than Yennefer was herself, because this really wasn't her ass on the line.

The men across from them didn’t look like anyone Yennefer would have ever seen herself sit in a restaurant with. She’d ordered something that contained pasta - or rather, Tissaia had subtly pointed towards something on her menu after seeing her raised eyebrows. 

What she ended up with had way too many vegetables and seemed to contain more alcohol than her actual drinks. She didn’t mind the alcohol, not at all actually, but did they have to drench all her food in it? 

“...a merge, if you want to call it,” Stregobor repeated. He'd been blatantly ignoring Yennefer's existence, but eagerly handed a stack of hastily bound papers over to her boss. Yennefer looked over to it, at first feigning interest for the sake of it, but the lettering was awfully familiar. She snagged the contracts from Tissaia's hands. Those names were ringing a bell as well.

"Excuse us-" Tissaia began.

“That deal looks terrible,” Yennefer cut her off and handed the papers back, still trying to pick apart the food with the cutlery she’d finally deemed fitting, “You wouldn’t possibly have gone official with that particular law office already, they lost their major clients a while ago. Why’d you partner up with them instead of just buying them out?” 

Stregobor looked flustered and Tissaia stared at her like she’d seen a bear. 

“What are you talking about?”

Yennefer shrugged. Keira Metz had played a main part in losing that client and Geralt had complained about every detail about it for a week straight. They’d at one point sat at the movies, sinking low into cushioned chairs an hour into the film, when Geralt had tugged on her sleeve, just to again ask “Can you believe it?”. They’d planted someone in the higher-ups of their clients company who’d fed them information and stirred them towards changing consultants, losing Geralt two clients himself.

"I suppose they’re trying to say someone could also be joining one of our own major clients." 

“That’s a very crass accusation,” the man commented. 

“It’s an understandable reaction to a threat,” Tissaia added.

“I’m hardly threatening anyone.” Stregobor harrumphed and stared down at his steak. “We’ll be deciding on future possible partnerships within the coming weeks. You can take your time.”

  
  


\---

  
  


They sat in dusty silence inside Tissaia's car until Yennefer couldn’t help herself and started fiddling with the radio and there weren’t even any channels saved. She looked at her boss pointedly. 

“You never use this thing?” 

Tissaia rolled her eyes, clearly too sober for this. 

“No.”

“It sounds okay, here.” She stopped when “Lover I Don’t Have To Love” hummed out of the speakers; she figured Tissaia’s heart could take it. The street lights bathed the car in shades of reds and greens and the light buzz helped her relax as she tucked her leg up, resting her knee against the dashboard. 

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” Tissaia asked, voice cool and neutral but her hands were gripping the steering wheel too tightly. She didn't look much like the imposing Ms de Vries now.

“It kind of was. That guy was a dick.” That got her a chuckle, an open one. 

“I’ll have to consider the options.”

“We have options?”

“I’m not sure we do,” she paused, fingers drumming with the song unconsciously, “If we don’t join them, they’ll certainly take some clients from us.”

Yennefer hummed quietly, the car sinking into silence again. There was an ‘us’ at least. A professional one, clearly. Because they’d been professional from the start and when it came down to it, Tissaia was just as bad at it as she was. And there was something oddly satisfying about knowing that.

When the car finally stopped in front of her parents’ house, she almost asked her boss to take her home with her. This felt warm, and unpredictably safe. In a different world, she could’ve at least asked her if she’d want to come inside for a coffee, but she wasn’t even quite sure they’d have any.

She opened her car door, then realized the kitchen window was open and faint yelling was coming from it. With a wince, she pulled the door shut again. It would hopefully blow over in a moment and Tissaia didn’t need to hear her parents fight in detail. 

“Stregobor didn’t bring his assistant.” 

“No.”

“Why’d you bring me, really?”

“I guess I didn’t want to go deal with them alone.” It was easier in the dark, she figured, when they both were staring ahead onto the barely lit street.

“Next time you can just let me know you need some backup.” 

Tissaia sighed deeply and looked over to her. “I think I need a drink.”

“We can do that, too.”

“You’ve already had half a bottle of wine.” 

“And it really wasn’t that good.”

Tissaia threw a glance towards the house, took a deep breath and started up the engine again. “Come on, then. We’ll get you a  _ good  _ glass of wine.”

Yennefer expected a trip back to the restaurant maybe, or to some fancy bar she’d never heard of, but they left the inner city and passed security into a gated community instead. Was she taking her home? She couldn’t quite picture what Tissaia’s home would look like. An office at home, with the same kind of desk she had at work, she could imagine. And maybe a kitchen. Did she actually cook? She seemed like someone who lived on nice outside dinners and would have a spotless, monochrome kitchen.

The kitchen wasn’t monochrome, but black, and still spotless, she barely got a look at it. But she had been right about her office and the idea of a spot on her private desk was a lot more interesting than the one at work. The most important part was, however, that nobody else seemed to live there. No traces of coats or shoes that couldn’t be hers near the door and definitely no traces of children in the house. The living room, where they ended up settling on a couch that looked more expensive than her entire bedroom’s interiors, was kept just as neat. 

Tissaia knew her wine, she’d give her that, and she learned Yennefer didn’t like the heavy, red stuff, the one that the older woman preferred. She’d tried a number of them by now, making a face at the bitter taste of each one and then handing the glass back to the woman carefully perched at the edge of the couch, who’d finish the drink. A pretty flush had crept onto her cheeks when she finally gave up and handed her a glass of apple cider. 

“Try this, then.”

“Are you making fun of me?” 

“No,” she smiled and sat down next to her, giving the liquid in her own glass a swirl, “not very successfully.”

They settled in comfortable silence and she couldn’t deny the cider was more to her taste than whatever the stuff before that was. Yennefer tugged her legs up under her and scooted closer, reaching over to Tissaia’s face, who flinched back at first. 

“Wait,” she sighed, “here.” 

“What is that?”

“It’s an eyelash; you’re supposed to blow it off the back of my hand and make a wish.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She was getting rather well acquainted with Tissaia’s scoff and eyeroll, to the point where it wasn’t fazing her anymore.

“No, it’s fun.”

When Tissaia finally leaned forward, she jerked her hand to the side. “But you can’t say what you wished for.”

“As if I would tell you.”

“So it’s  _ that  _ kind of wish.” She gave her a triumphant smile and held the back of her hand in front of her lips again.

"Oh good god, you'll be the death of me."

Yennefer watched Tissaia swallow noticeably before finally being brave enough to join her on her level and blow the damn eyelash off her hand. Their eyes met and she opened her mouth to ask what the wish was, because she hadn’t seen annoyed, drunk Tissaia yet but was rather certain it was probably hot. She decided against it only when she felt her watching, in a way that wasn’t the playful hunger of their usual games but something like fondness and it made her shift uncomfortably. How was she doing that, changing the base of their game and forcing a blush to creep up her neck all the way to her ears. She didn’t fucking blush. So she reached over to get her glass of cider back instead, because having something to cling to was always a good plan.

“Did I behave well enough tonight then?” It sounded like a stupid thing to say in her head and it still did after she’d blurted it out. 

“Sorry?”

“You know, like you told me to,” Yennefer said, raising her glass to hide her smirk. She watched as a light finally came on in Tissaia’s mind. A mortified expression washed over her face for a moment, quickly replaced by a pleased smile. Just how tipsy was she by now? 

“Absolutely not.”

“What? I was a fucking poster child for appropriate.” Her skirt had reached just below her knees, thank you very much, and she almost pointed that out. But Tissaia let her hand slide along Yennefer’s jawline and tipped her chin up, looking into her eyes again when she said those words for the first time. 

“It’s earned you a spot on my desk, I think.” 

Yennefer forgot how breathing worked. It must’ve been the third glass of that French stuff. 

“Come here.”

And this was another talent, making questions not sound as such, but she wasn’t going to say no to her now anyway, so she leaned closer and noted how Tissaia wasn’t the one moving. She was so close in her personal space again, hands supporting her against the soft couch, and being able to smell her perfume on her neck joins the already bizarre buzz in her head. Tissaia let her rest her hand on her knee, watching her with an amused smirk, and Yennefer realized she was going to make her alone decide if she wanted this. 

There was no way she was going to back away now, her brain had already made the decision without her when she finally felt the older woman’s lips brush against her own. Tissaia reacted immediately to the touch, closing her lips around her bottom lip and Yennefer’s brain had snuck away somewhere because this felt very different from other partners before her. She could taste the wine on her and feel Tissaia’s fingers curling around the back of her neck, tugging her closer. And something in the back of her mind hammered away, reminding her they were quite drunk and she wouldn’t be doing this if they were a bit more sober. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing, but I needed this.


End file.
